Numbness
by that-crazy-asian-girl
Summary: (ON HOLD!) Hermione's not just a regular girl. She's the daughter of Tom Riddle and now he wants to find and recruit her. Plus, she finds out that she also has a prophecy and its interlocked with Harry's. Can she and Harry find a way to overcome eveything
1. Default Chapter

"I can't feel...

The way I did before...

Don't turn your back on me...

I won't be ignored...

Time won't heal...

This damage anymore...

Don't turn your back on me...

I won't be ignored..."

The lyrics of Linkin Park blared out from Hermione's boom box; the speakers actually vibrating from the intensity of the song's volume. Hermione sat on her bed, listening to each and every word which spewed out from the lead singer's lips. Her hair (which used to be a dull copper color and bushy was now completely straight, pitch black and was so long that it reached Hermione's butt when she stood) spilled over her shoulders and onto the bed, like a pool of black.

Despite her raven black locks, Hermione looked completely normal. Except for the fact that she was sitting on her bed, staring intently at a sponge. Yes, that's right. A sponge. And not even a very special sponge. Merely of the cheap, yellow variety you can easily purchase at a 99 cent store. Hermione's warm, honey colored eyes (which contrasted greatly with her hair) looked like they would bulge out of their sockets soon and her face bore an expression of deep concentration. She bit her lower lip and sweat droplets formed on her forehead.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of intense staring, something happened. The sponge moved. By itself. As if an invisible force was pushing it. Hermione blinked in surprise for a second but then shook her head and continued staring. This time, the sponge moved a bit more. Hermione was biting her lip so hard that the skin peeled and blood began to drip from it. Then it happened. The sponge lifted up slightly from one side and for a minute it was tilting upward, when it finally floated up a good three inches before quickly dropping back onto the bed.

Hermione was now grinning like a madman. She had done it. Immediately, she raced to her window where a small, snowy white owl was perched, preening. Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and quickly scribbled something:

**Hey dingus! I did it! I actually did it! **


	2. Holy Toledo! WHO'S my father?

Hermione had never asked to be different. In a sense, she knew that she already WAS different due to the fact that she was, in fact, the muggle-born witch who was also a female genius of Hogwarts and best friend of the infamous Harry Potter and Ronald Weasely. But despite her intelligence and her choice of friends, Hermione Jane Granger was indeed a normal girl. Until last month.

Hermione had returned home from her fifth year in Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, ready to spend some quality time with her parents. She had walked into the living room, expecting to see her parents sitting on the couch, waiting for her. But the sight that befell her was far from that. It WAS her parents. But instead of sitting on the couch they both lay still on the floor. In pools of their own blood.

She would never forget the way her mother stared at her lifelessly, since they had died with their eyes open. That meant they were both forced to watch their attacker kill them. Her father's eyes were dripping blood and his mouth lay open in a silent scream of agony. Hermione didn't know how long she screamed before she blacked out and fell to the floor, unconscious.

The rest of the day was a blur. Hermione had stared at the bodies blankly for what seemed like hours after she woke up. She didn't even blink in surprise when Dumbledore, Remus Lupin and Professor McGonagall apparated to her house later, all gazing at her with deep sympathy. And when she learned from Dumbledore that Voldemort had killed her parents because she was not only a Muggleborn but a friend of Harry's, she didn't so much as flinch. She merely nodded slowly and returned her gaze to the lifeless bodies of her parents.

"Hermione, it may seem like much information to retain at such a critical time but I feel that I must tell you this now." Dumbledore had spoken with such seriousness that Hermione actually raised her head to look at him.

"Hermione, these aren't your parents."

Blink, blink.

"What?"

"You are adopted."

Swallow. Blink.

"Dumbledore, maybe we should wait a bit. She's gone through much and needs some res-"

"No." Professor McGonagall stopped talking to Dumbledore. All three adults stared at Hermione.

"No. I...WANT...TO...KNOW..." Hermione put much emphasis on each word she spoke. Dumbledore gazed at her sadly.

"Hermione, it seems that you were abandoned when you were merely a few months old by your mother. Your mother was a muggle and she fell in love with your father, a half blood. But complications arose and your father grew different, more dark. And your mother felt that you couldn't grow up living a horrible life with him. So she contacted me to help her and together, we secretly left you on the doorstep of the Grangers. It was several hours later that your father found out and murdered your dear mother."

Hermione couldn't stop blinking. She felt a slight clenching around her heart.

"I know this seems like much to handle. I understand that this is quite a lot to take for a girl so young. And for that Hermione, I am sorry."

A long pause, filled with tension, followed after Dumbledore's speech. Finally, Hermione spoke.

"How did my par-my adopted parents die?"

Dumbledore hung his head slightly.

"They were killed by the Cruciatus curse. It was used multiple times on them and the pain was too much to handle. In a way, it was better for them to die than to be driven to madness like Neville's parents."

Many thoughts spun through her head but only one stood out. She stood up so immediately, that she startled everyone.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU MEAN IT WAS BETTER FOR THEM TO DIE?"

No one dared speak. Rare was a time when Hermione Granger swore in front of an adult and for her to say that to the Headmaster himself, must have meant she was furious.

"AND WHAT IS ALL THIS GODDMAN NONSENSE ABOUT ME BEING ADOPTED???"

More silence.

"**AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!!!!!!! ALL THOSE YEARS! AND DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT IT WAS TO PROTECT ME OR ANY OF THAT CRAP!**"

Hermione's voice grew shriller with every sentence she spoke.

"**MY PARENTS ARE DEAD! AND I DON'T CARE IF THEY AREN'T MY REAL PARENTS! THEY'RE DEAD! AS IN NOT ALIVE! TAKEN A DIRT NAP! BOUGHT THE FARM! KICKED THE BUCKET! WENT TO MEET THEIR MAKER! AND ALL THE YEARS I WAS WITH MY "PARENTS" MY REAL MOTHER HAS BEEN DEAD THE WHOLE TIM-**"

Hermione paused her emotional rampage for a second. She was breathing heavily. McGonagall had tears shining in her eyes and Remus was looking grim. Dumbledore, on the other hand, did not even look fazed. Hermione opened her mouth again.

"Is my father alive?"

"Yes." The answer came almost automatically. Hermione digested the information for a minute and then spoke again, her voice more tentative.

"Wh-Who is it?"

Dumbledore's eyes shone with what looked like gut-deep sympathy and great sadness.

"Your full name is Hermione Jane Riddle."

As McGonagall and Lupin gasped, Hermione looked confused.

'What? What do you mea-" As the full meaning of those words hit Hermione like a ton of bricks, the words "Oh. My. God." Left her lips before she once again fainted.


	3. Understanding

It had taken Hermione weeks and weeks to accept everything. She had screamed many obscenities, thrown many delicate vases, china and glass picture frames at walls and slammed many doors. But, eventually, she did calm down.

"Why?"

"Why what, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore had asked gently.

"You know perfectly well, why what. Why did all this happen to me? A couple of months ago, I was Hermione Granger. I was perfectly content to living a normal life with normal problems. Now, my parents are dead. And they're not even my parents. And the man who killed them, the man who slaughtered the two people I have ever loved is my own flesh and blood father. Voldemort. The very wizard who killed so many innocent people. WHY?"

"I cannot tell you why, Miss Granger. Fate works in mysterious ways."

"I hate him for killing so many. I hate them for leaving me. I hate her for abandoning me on that stoop. And as much as I don't want to, I hate you for lying to me all this time. Perhaps, not hate. But strongly dislike and distrust is a good substitute."

"I can understand why you would feel that way, Miss Granger."

A small cry emitted from Hermione's throat but she refused to let any tears fall. She had decided a long time ago that crying was futile to her situation.

"He doesn't know, right? He doesn't know that it's me yet. He hasn't found out that I'M his heir. He didn't attack my parents because he thought I was his daughter. Right?"

"That, thankfully, is correct. He does not know. He merely killed them because of your friendship with Harry."

"Oh God, Harry. All this time, he had gone through so much and I never understood what he could be feeling. Now I admire him for coping with this for so long."

"Yes. He has gone through more than many of us can in a lifetime. And now, so have you."


	4. Training and Paper Bags

Hermione had sworn to Dumbledore that if Voldemort ever did find out about her heritage, she would NEVER join him. Nevertheless, Dumbledore felt it better to train her for the when Voldemort DID find out. To help her be more prepared. So he enlisted Remus to assist her.

Her lessons were usually the development of her new powers, such as telepathy, which enabled her to move items with her mind and elemental power, meaning she could actually control the elements. Elemental power was harder to control. For now, she could only control wind. Wind was the easiest to master. If she just closed her eyes and concentrated, she was able to cause a small breeze and then it would grow stronger and stronger.

In the beginning, Hermione was slightly resistant and awkward when training with Remus. Since she was Voldemort's heir, Dumbledore explained that her body and powers would go through a few changes when she was of age. So after her sixteenth birthday (celebrated with Tonks, Remus, McGonagall, Dumbledore and Moody at Grimmauld Place), Hermione had noticed that at times, she would feel as if an electrical charge was running up her spine. Dumbledore called it a power surge.

Her hair had also flattened out and grown darker and darker, until it was the color of ebony. Her cinnamon colored eyes, which Dumbledore said she had inherited from her mother, remained though. Her warm eyes and dark hair looked odd together but in a way, they suited her well. Her skin had also grown slightly paler and her lips took on a fuller, pouty blood red style.

The first few days, Hermione was completely embarrassed about her new look and for a few comical hours (at least it was for Remus) actually wore a brown paper bag over her head to hide her changes. Eventually, Hermione grew to accept her looks like her heritage. Her powers were a bit harder to control.

At times, when Hermione felt angry, she felt that she did things that she couldn't control. Like when Remus was forcing her to have extra late night training and she was so furious that Remus wouldn't let her sleep that she subconsciously caused his sleeve to light on fire. That was the first time she ever controlled fire. She apologized profusely but Remus was more proud than angry: fire was a very hard element to control, almost the hardest (lightning was the hardest).

Later on, Professor Moody had suggested that Hermione learn advanced wand movement and dueling techniques so even more work was added to her schedule. And that was how it went: development of her powers in the morning with Remus, dueling in the afternoon and at night she could have time alone to relax or study. And that finally brings us to the scene with the sponge.


	5. Oh Crap

After finishing her letter to Remus, (Yes. Hermione called Remus a dingus. Hey, that rhymes!) Hermione yawned and leaned back a bit against the wall. Almost ten minutes later, her owl flew back into the room with a letter in his beak. Hermione anxiously untied it from its claw and unfolded it. It read:

**Congratulations. I didn't expect you to learn telekinesis until two weeks later. I was extremely impressed. In no time at all, you'll be finished with your training. Keep up the good work. I'll see you tomorrow morning and we cab continue with your lesson.**

Hermione smiled at Remus' praise. Though she had humbled over the past months, it was still wonderful to hear praise about her intelligence. She looked down and noticed that there was a very small, tiny sentence at the bottom of the letter. She squinted and read:

**Oh, and by the way, Harry's coming to Grimmauld Place today.**

"WHHHHHAAAATTTT???!!!???" She screeched, toppling off the bed. Her owl watched with an amused glint in its eye as she attempted to stand up and adjust herself.

Harry was coming. To Grimmauld Place. Today. Hermione glanced at her watch. It was exactly six 'o clock. Would Harry be coming to Grimmauld Place during dinner? She wasn't so sure how she would react when she saw him. Sure, part of her was exhilarated to find out that one of her most close friends was coming to live at the house she was staying in. But part of her was mortified. And she had very good reasons to be.

Her father was Lord Voldemort, the very man who killed said close friend's parents and caused the so called Dark Ages of the wizarding world and whose sole purpose in life was to kill said close friend.

She had elemental and telekinetic powers that allowed her to perform magic that normal witches and wizards her age were not capable of.

Her parents were dead and she didn't know how to explain their death if Harry asked her about them.

She looked like a goth poser.

Hermione wondered if maybe she would have enough time to prepare herself physically and mentally for her best friend's arrival.

"Maybe I can just perform a glamour spell on myself. I've read about them in books and I'm a fast learner. I can probably do it correctly if I have enough time. Maybe I can just-"

DING-DONG!

"...or not..."

Oh good God. Harry was here. Hermione ran downstairs without thinking and ran down the hallway.

"Scum! Mudbloods! Running amok in MY house!" called a voice from where the portrait of Sirius' mother was.

Hermione ignored the portrait's cries and wrenched open the door. And there stood Harry in all his Boy-Who-Lived, savior of the wizarding world glory. Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry.


	6. BOOM!

Harry stared at Hermione with an incredulous expression on his face and blinked several times.

"H-Hermione?"

"Um...yes. It's me."

"Y-Your hair. It's black."

"Yes Harry. I've noticed the color of my hair. Thank you for pointing that out."

Harry shook his head and finally snapped out his stupor. He looked at Hermione again and a small smile formed on his lips.

"You know, I read that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"You READ? As in retaining information from a book on your own free will? Did hell freeze over already?"

"Ha ha," Harry shrugged. "I had a lot of time on my hands. And I was looking through all the books that you gave me as gifts for Christmas and my birthday. And I decided to read them. It wasn't so bad actually."

"Glad to know that my books have been put to good use. Come on in."

Hermione moved away from the door so Harry could walk in. As he gathered his luggage, Hermione smiled inwardly. She scolded herself for being so worried about everything being awkward between her and Harry. They were best friends. Time didn't matter. No matter how long they weren't together, they just easily picked up from where they left off and soon, they were laughing and joking like old times.

Hermione noticed that Harry was awfully quiet when he was walking up the stairs. She caught him staring at the walls and the kitchen and the doors with a look of longing and deep sadness in his eyes. It almost broke her heart.

"Poor Harry," thought Hermione. "Now that I understand him, I'm surprised that he hasn't gone insane with all the emotional trauma he's been through."

They both walked into Harry's room. Harry roughly threw his suitcase onto the bed. His eyes traveled over the room and glazed over a bit. He then blinked and turned around to face Hermione. She wasn't surprised to see a look of distress on his face.

"I-I'm not sure I can do it. I thought I could before. When Dumbledore told me to come, I-I...and I told myself that I could handle it because it was...just a house. But I don't know...it's just so weird..."

Hermione nodded with understanding in her eyes. She knew that she would feel the exact same way if she was forced to go back to the house she used to call "home".

"Want some ice cream?"

Harry looked at her with an odd expression.

"Um, Hermione. I'm a guy. Guys don't feel better after they stuff themselves with fattening desserts."

"Well what do they do? Get laid?"

"N-No! Guys don't-I mean, I don't-"

But Harry was interrupted by the sound of Hermione's laughing.

"Harry! Your face! It was priceless! Do all boys get like that when they discuss shagging?"

Harry gave her a mock glare but soon dissolved into light chuckles. Then his face grew serious again.

"Hey, um, can we get out of this house for a while? I...don't really feel comfortable in here."

"Harry. We can't. Remember? Dumbledore told us to stay here."

A small flash of irritation flickered in his eyes but soon died down.

"So what? It's not like Dumbledore's safety precautions have done any good."

"Harry! How can you say that?" Hermione wished she could relate to Harry and say yes but she owed Dumbledore. Unlike Harry, she didn't blame Dumbledore for anything. She knew he had sacrificed much for her and Harry's well being and respected his wishes.

"Look! I just really don't feel like being in here."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Harry. Truly I am. But we have to stay. It's for our own safety. We have to listen to Dumbledore."

Harry's face grew a deep beet red and he didn't even try to hide the anger in his eyes this time.

"OH, SURE! LISTEN TO THE ALMIGHTY DUMBLEDORE! LOT OF GOOD HIS ORDERS DID US! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU STILL LISTEN TO HIM AFTER WHAT HAPPENED TO SURIUS LAST YEAR! WHICH I KNOW IS MOSTLY MY FAULT BUT HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN-"

"HARRY! **I **CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE STILL BLAMING YOURSELF FOR SIRIUS' DEATH! FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME, IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! IT'S NOT DUMBLEDORE'S FAULT EITHER. I'M SURE NEITHER OF YOU WANTED THIS TO HAPPEN! IT WAS FATE! I KNOW HARRY! I UNDERSTAND HOW YOU FEE-"

"NO IT WASN'T FATE! I COULD HAVE PREVENTED IT FROM HAPPENING IF ONLY I WASN'T SO STUBBORN AND FORCED EVERYONE TO GO TO THE MINISTRY! AND DON'T YOU DARE SAY YOU UNDERSTAND ME! NOBODY DOES! I HATE IT THAT EVERYONE SAYS THAT THEY UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL AND TRY TO CONSOLE WHEN THEY DON'T KNOW RAT'S ARSE ABOUT MY EMOTIONS!"

Hermione had never remembered when she'd been this angry except for when she found out about the murderer of her "parents". And to think, all this anger was directed toward the last person she wanted to be angry at.

"**SHUT UP HARRY!!! JUST BLODDY SHUT UP!**" Harry immediately calmed down a bit and grew surprised at the fury and pain in her voice.

"**I AM SICK AND TIRED OF HEARING YOU MOPE AROUND AND BLAME YOURSELF FOR SIRIUS' DEATH! EVERYONE HAS BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT BUT YOU DON'T LISTEN BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO BUSY WALLOWING IN SELF MISERY AND IT'S SO BLOODY PATHETIC! DON'T YOU DARE THINK THAT YOU'RE THE ONLY PERSON HERE WHO'S SUFFERED BECAUSE BINGO! LOOK AROUND YOU! LOOK AT REMUS! LOOK AT MRS. WEASELY. LOOK AT _MR. _WEASLEY! LOOK AT TONKS! LOOK...AT...MEEEEE!!!"**

And with that, Hermione stormed out of Harry's room and slammed the door. It was only a few minutes later when she was sulking in her own bedroom when she realized that by closing the door, she had just closed out everything she had once taken comfort in.


	7. EVIIIIIILLLLLLLLL!

"You think the way you live is okay

You think posin' will save the day

You think we don't see that you're running

Better call your boys

'Cause I'm coming"

Hermione lay on her bed, sulking as her boom box continued to spew forth a rush of heavy metal and techno infused lyrics by N.E.R.D. A deep, heartfelt sigh left her lips.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have been so harsh on him," she thought to herself. "But if anyone deserved a wake-up call it's that irritating Gryffindor Golden Boy"

Hermione sighed again.

"But then again, that WAS a horrible spat we had back there. Probably the worst so far. I really hope this doesn't change anything between us."

She would have continued contemplating her situation if she had not heard the loud THUD from the other room. She immediately figured out that the racket was coming from Harry's room. Hermione could faintly distinguish the sound of a window sliding open. Quickly, she raced to her own window, opened it and stuck her head out, turning it to face Harry's window.

It was so fast, that she almost didn't see it. Almost. Because at that moment, the so called "Gryffindor Golden Boy" was now speeding out of his window on what looked like a broom.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, YOU GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!" screamed Hermione. But her order fell on deaf ears as she watched Harry fly farther and farther away into the night.

The first thing that passed through Hermione's mind was: "How in the world did Harry manage to get a broomstick?" Then she remembered that Remus had left his broomstick in Harry's room yesterday when they were both training.

The second thing that passed through her mind was: "Am I stupid enough to go out and chase Harry?" The third thing was: "Hell yes!" In a flash, Hermione was racing downstairs, with the words: GET HARRY POTTER continuously flickering before her eyes. She was halfway through shoving on her sneakers (A/N: Classic black Converse with lyrics to "Decade Under the Influence" by Taking Back Sunday scribbled in silver milky pen) when she paused for a minute.

Harry was a professional Seeker. He was the fastest, pardon her French, mother-(bleep) to ever fly on a broom. And right now, he was probably completely pissed off and had a huge amount of anger to release. How in the world was she supposed to catch up to him? Then a small idea formed in her mind. An evil idea.

Perhaps it was because she was frustrated. Perhaps she REALLY wanted to catch Harry and give him a piece of her mind. Perhaps being Tom Riddle's daughter had influenced her a bit. But at that moment, Hermione Granger decided to do something BAD. She finished tying her sneakers and walked to the door, an evil glint in her eye.

"MUDBLOODS! FILTHY, DIRTY! NOT ALLOWED TO WALK-"

"Oh, shut the hell up, you old bat." Hermione retorted before closing the door behind her. She walked over to an old tree that was located behind Grimmauld Place. She remembered that Remus had shown this to her a few weeks ago. He was very lonesome and seemed to be in a very nostalgic mood when he revealed it. She was always tempted before but knew it wouldn't be right. Besides, she was scared. Now, for some reason, she didn't give a damn. Hermione pulled out her wand from her jean pocket and then muttered a spell, pointing her wand at the tree.

Immediately, the tree transfigured back into it's original. What it was before Remus decided to take safety precautions and change it into a tree. There, standing in front of Hermione Jane Riddle, was Sirius' motorcycle. And boy, was she going to have fun using it.


	8. You Can't Be Me, I'm A Rock Star

A mischievous smile spread across Hermione's face as she climbed onto the seat of the motorcycle. As she sat on it, she took a moment to admire its beauty. It was indeed a classic. Shiny, metallic silver chrome. Jet black molding. The seat was comfortable black leather. She flicked her wand and muttered another spell. The engine sputtered and a low, deep rumble vibrated throughout the bike. Now Hermione understood why men were always so fond and protective of their cars. For some strange reason, she felt like she was connected to this motorcycle, despite the fact that it was Sirius' and that Harry was probably the one he wanted to give it to.

As she thought about Harry and Sirius, she felt a tiny twinge of guilt in her heart. She knew that this wasn't right. In a way, wasn't she dishonoring Sirius by riding his bike when it was really Harry who deserved to ride it? She let out a deep groan.

"I guess I won't go then." Hermione muttered to herself. But as she said the word "go" the motorcycle immediately sprung to life. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, the bike immediately took off, carry Hermione on it.

She let out a loud, piercing shriek as she drove onto the road.

**(A/N: Okay, now it's going to get a little confusing. I want you all to read and picture the events that follow as a movie. For a better reading experience, listen to N.E.R.D.'s "Rockstar Poser The Jason Nevin Remix" while reading this.)**

As Hermione rode into the night, her boom box continued to play the song she was listening to a couple of minutes ago inside her bedroom. And for some strange reason, the song seemed to fit the situation she was in.

"**You think the way you live's okay**

**You think posin' will save the dayâ **

**  
You think we don't see that you're runningâ  
**

**Better call your boys  
**

**Cause I'm coming"**

Hermione whimpered as the motorcycle continued to ride down the street. She gripped the handles as if her life depended upon it. She was completely terrified. But for some strange reason, there was a small part of her that enjoying this. And soon, after driving down the road and not crashing into anyone, that part grew larger and larger until Hermione was actually having fun. The mischievous sparkle returned to her eye and she grinned evilly.

"Let's do this." She whispered to no one in particular.

"**You can't be meâ  
I'm a Rock Starâ  
I'm rhyming on the top of a cop car  
I'm a rebel and my .44 pops far  
  
It's almost over now  
It's almost over now  
  
Yesâ  
You ain't heard that we swallow guysâ  
It's too damn late to apologizeâ  
When you see the mantle or will you see the skiesâ  
  
It's almost over now  
It's almost over now" **

Hermione felt the wind whip her long, raven hair so that it looked like she had a black cape flowing behind her. Her eyes seemed to glow with excitement. She began weaving down the rode, swerving and turning hazardously to avoid crashing into the slower cars. Bright lights from shop windows and restaurants reflected into her eye, causing golden flecks to dance across her pupil. Hermione whipped her wand out and screamed: "POINT ME!" The wand immediately pointed to the left so she immediately veered to her left side, causing another car to almost collide with her motorcycle, and began driving down another road.

"**You have to plenty of time  
**

**There was no rushâ  
**

**But it was your dream to be like usâ  
**

**You're in dreamland so you don't careâ  
**

**And as you wait  
**

**I'm standing there"**

She looked around her and concluded that there was a dead end in front of her. It seemed that there was a construction site up ahead. She squinted. No one seemed to be around. She also noticed a large ramp ahead of her. She grinned. Making sure once again that no one was looking, Hermione drove even faster toward the ramp. Finally, the motorcycle rode onto the wooden platform. It was a very large ramp so it took several seconds to ride up. But then Hermione felt herself sail off of it.

"**You can't be meâ  
I'm a Rock Starâ  
I'm rhyming on the top of a cop car  
I'm a rebel and my .44 pops far  
  
It's almost over now  
It's almost over now  
  
Yesâ  
You ain't heard that we swallow guysâ  
It's too damn late to apologizeâ  
When you see the mantle or will you see the skiesâ  
  
It's almost over now  
It's almost over now" **

Hermione felt herself lift up into the air and she soared towards the sky. Then she began to feel the sensation of falling. Panic gripped her heart. But then, she heard herself scream: "FLY!" and she heard the motorcycle's engine become more quiet and the sensation of falling immediately stop. That was when Hermione knew. She was flying on Sirius' bike.


	9. Falling Sucks

Hermione remembered a few years ago, when her father took her to an amusement park. She didn't exactly enjoy it much due to the fact that most of the rides were big, gigantic, roller coasters of doom. But she remembered this one ride. It was one of those large pirate ship rides that swung back and forth on a pendulum. At first she was very reluctant to go. She thought that if she went on what she called a "large, swinging ship of death and misery", she would vomit as soon as she got off the ride. And she was right.

But she admitted that the feeling of absolute weightlessness was exhilarating. It was merely the feeling of falling back down that made her lose her lunch. AT that moment, Hermione was in nirvana. Flying on Sirius' motorcycle gave her a feeling of pumping adrenaline and the weightlessness that she felt on the pirate ship ride. But there was no fear because for some odd reason, Hermione felt safe on this motorcycle.

After about half an hour of flying, Hermione's bottom was growing numb and she was starting to become bored with having to look at clouds pass by. She was beginning to lose hope. Suddenly, her eyes spotted a dark shape that seemed to be flying behind a cloud.

"Harry!" She thought to herself and propelled herself faster, toward the figure. She flew straight into the cloud. Closer and closer she flew until she only needed to fly several more feet and she could exit the cloud and see Harry.

"Closer............closer............closer............Harry! AHHHHHHHHHH!!" Hermione ducked to the left as an airplane shot past her, almost crashing into its left wing. Amazingly, she was able to avoid it by doing a back flip on the motorcycle and then finding herself right side up again. Of course she received a head rush immediately afterwards but that wasn't important.

"Arrrrghh! I can't believe this!" Hermione slammed her fists on the handles in a fit of rage and frustration.

"I can't believe that I actually left Grimmauld Place after Dumbledore _specifically _told me not to, stole the bike of one of my best friend's DEAD GODFATHER, went on a joyride through the streets of London, and have been flying on a motorcycle, when anyone with a telescope can see me, for half an hour! This is so frustrating! I should have just stayed at Grimmauld Place and studied for the-Hi Harry."

"Hey Hermione." Harry replied absentmindedly on his broom as she flew past him on her motorcycle.

"Now where was I? Oh yes. I should have just stayed in Grimmauld Place and studied for my-OMIGOSH! HARRY!"

"HERMIONE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? HOW'D YOU GET HERE? **IS THAT A MOTORCYCLE!!?!!?**"

"Harry, I'm real sorry about this."

Harry quickly retrieved his wand but it was too late. Hermione had already said the spell.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!"

Harry's legs and arms snapped together. He could feel himself tilt off the broom and was soon greeted with the rush of falling. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Hermione flying after him on her motorcycle.


	10. I Hate Head Rushes

Hermione ducked a stunning spell that was shot at her and dive bombed across the carpet, trying to knock over her opponent. She succeeded but was soon greeted with the familiar feeling of dizziness that one attained when standing up too quickly.

While she tried to stand on her own two feet without falling over, a petrifying spell landed smack on her chest and she fell over, her legs and arms stiffly by her sides. Cursing herself for being so stupid, she could only watch helplessly as her opponent stood over her.

"What have I told you about that move? Don't do it unless you are sure you won't get a head rush from it!" Professor Lupin exclaimed in an exasperated voice. Hermione, having been rendered completely paralyzed, could only glare at him.

"I understand that having Harry here is slightly distracting but that does not mean that you can get carried away and forget to practice."

Ohhh...how she wished she could give him the finger.

"Finite Incantantem."

Hermione felt her body loosening and she could finally remove her arms from being pinned to her stomach. She rubbed her left shoulder and shakily stood up. When she concluded that she hadn't gained any life-threatening fractures, she looked Professor Lupin straight in the eye and opened her mouth.

"You're mean."

Not the award-winning witty insult she had hoped for, but it was a start. Professor Lupin sighed and sat down on an armchair.

"I'm sorry if I'm pushing you too much, Hermione. You've already done much more than can be expected for someone your age. I'm just worried I suppose."

He looked so frail and tired at that moment that all the irritation that Hermione experienced a few minutes ago dissolved.

"It's all right. I understand, I suppose. Maybe I _should _have spent more time practicing. It's just...well I never expected Harry to fly out of the second floor window and that I would hijack the flying motorcycle of a dead Marauder and fly after him and then almost get squished by an airplane and then have to save him from certain death after sending a petrifying spell at his annoying-Gryffindor-arse."

Lupin merely raised his left eyebrow.

"Are you finished with your little soliloquy?"

"Yes, I suppose I am. I just can't wait for Harry to wake up so I can hug him. Then curse him so much that his even his scar wouldn't know what hit him."

"Ok, so I guess coming downstairs for a glass of water _was _a bad idea."

Hermione spun around, spotting a small figure standing on the staircase.

"Harry."

A/N: Did you like it? I bet you did, my cute widdle audience! Ok, before you run away in a state of complete fright and freaked-out-ness, please read my other story: "Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold". I know. It's shameless to advertise your own story in another story. Luckily, I have no shame! So READ!


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